“I know!” she cried, with a poignant accent. “I know! I hearn it all.”
She thought of his justification, his fancied provocation, and once more timidity beset her. How could she have found courage to speak in his behalf to Gwinnan? The judge himself was embarrassed; she knew it by the way he turned the reins in his hands. She noted details which usually, when her faculties were not so abnormally alert, would not have arrested her attention: the sleek coat of the handsome young horse, which now and then shook his head as if in disdain of her grasp; the super-fine accoutrements of saddle and bridle; the smooth hands that held the reins; the severely straight lineaments, shadowed by the brim of the hat; and the searching, intent gray eyes, which saw, she felt, her inmost thought.
The postmaster, ploughing, came ever and anon down to the fence, pausing there to turn, and sometimes to thrust with his foot the clinging mould from the share. Occasionally he glanced at the incongruous couple, but as if the colloquy between them were a very normal incident, and with that courteous lack of curiosity and speculation characteristic of the region. All the fowls of the place followed in the furrow, clucking with gustatory satisfaction; now and then, with a gluttonous outcry, they darted to certain clods upturned by the plough, and the pantomime indicated much mortality among those poor troglodytes, the worms of the earth.
“You wanted to speak to me about him,” said Gwinnan, with, it seemed to her, wonderful divination.
“Ye know, jedge,” she said, more calmly, instantly reassured whenever he spoke, “they hev fund out ez ’twarn’t him ez bust down the mill. A boy seen it done, an’ he war feared ter tell afore. I reckon that war what set Reuben off so awful onruly,—knowin’ he never done it, nor drownded Tad nuther,—an’ the ’torney-gin’al makin’ folks ’low I seen a harnt.”
“I dare say,” remarked Gwinnan, dryly.
“An’ I ’lowed,” she continued, looking at him with beautiful, beseeching eyes “ez ’twon’t do him much good ef he does git off at his nex’ trial, ’kase then he’ll be bound ter be in the prison arterward, ennyhow, fur twenty years. An’ I ’lowed I’d ax ye, seein’ ez ye don’t hold no gredge agin him,—I wonder at ye, too!—ef ye can’t do nuthin’ ez kin git him out now.”
The wind waved the peach boughs above their heads, and the pink petals were set a-drifting down the currents of the air. Among the blossoms bees were booming, and on a budding spray a blue and crested jay was jauntily pluming its wings. Gold flakes of sunshine shifted obliquely through the rosy, inflorescent bower delicately imposed upon the blue sky. In its fine azure cirrus clouds were vaguely limned. On the opposite side of the road was the bluff end of a ridge, presenting a high escarpment of grim splintered rocks; among the niches ferns grew and vines trailed downward; there came from them a dank, refreshing odor, for moisture continuously trickled from them, and a hidden spring in a cleft by the wayside asserted its presence,—its tinkling distinctly heard in the pause that ensued.
He looked meditatively at the jagged heights. Then suddenly he turned his eyes upon her.